"Like all children, I wanted to be a soccer player. I played quite well, in fact I was terrific, but only at night when I was asleep. During the day I was the worst wooden leg ever to set foot on the little soccer field of my country. Years have gone by and I’ve finally learned to accept myself for who I am: a beggar for good soccer. I go about the world, hand outstretched, and in the stadiums I plead: “A pretty move, for the love of God.” And when good soccer happens, I give thanks for the miracle and I don’t give a damn which team or country performs it." Taken from Eduardo Galeno's Soccer in Sun and Shadow

For week 5 of the class, our assignments examined how the game progressed from a game to a sport to a global event, with tournaments being used as poltical platforms and marketing events for corporate sponsors.  We also read on the ground reports from the 2010 World Cup in South Africa.

Week 5 Readings:

David Goldblatt, “The FIFA World Cup and its Impact on Global History and Culture,” keynote address, FIFA World Cup conference, Zurich, April 25, 2013

Alegi and Bolsmann, Africa’s World Cup , pp. 1-17, 61-69, 87-95, 119-131, 148-158, 168-175, 210-218

Here is my full post for the class blog:

The readings this week fused the topics of the opening four weeks—the development of the game, the many expressions of fan culture, and the globalization of the sport—using the most recent World Cup as a platform.  The game is no longer a leisure activity or a local club of friends and co-workers but, as our authors show us, has become a worldwide corporate event filled with fans and sponsors and natives of the host countries.  The game is also a source of optimism for everyone involved.

Goldblatt’s draft dives into the progression of the game at the international level while keeping the supporter element close to the surface of the discussion.  Each tournament has its own story and he provides a brief overview from the early twentieth century Olympics to the 2010 World Cup (Goldblatt section II).  Along the way, international competitions became something more than just a sporting event—attempts at national rebranding, political platforms for the ruling governments and evangelistic festivals for the game.  At the same time, fan support is a key component of any tournament, as Goldblatt states at the end of section I, “. . . there is no spectacle without us; without a public that is prepared to invest emotional energy in the playing of a game there is no glamour and no glory.”  From there he makes the case in section III that tournaments always have “smaller, intersecting stories” to tell, and these moments are what give texture, context and ultimately legacy to the competitions.

The selections from the book expand on this theme in interesting, authentic and personal ways. Most of these were on the ground accounts of the tournament, how the venues looked, how the hosts and visitors interacted at the competition, and how South Africa can build a legacy going forward.  Tales of the literal and metaphorical use of the vuvuzela (Doyle 67-68), the FIFAland experience (Hernandez 168-173) and Americans abroad (Guest 148-151) enriched my sense of the tournament beyond the United States losing in the second round and Spain lifting the trophy.

Focusing on Laurent Dubois’ essay, many of the elements found in Fever Pitch resurfaced—the analysis of a fan, the game day interaction, the match itself.   Throughout the selection, he asks why do we follow this game?  Surely not the result, but as Dubois and the rest of the writers shared, the game provides glimpses into communities both together and opposed, moments of glory and disappointment and the match day—the crowds, roars and the interactions experienced before, during and after the game.  These flashes give the fan a taste and this taste continues to draw the fan in match after match.

And the next match is just around the corner.  Brazil are making final preparations to their stadiums and infrastructure, yet the previous hosts are still sorting out their legacy.  South Africa continues to strive to be a growing power, the World Cup giving them a brief boost to build on the momentous events of early 1990’s but there is still much work to be done. Yet a tournament of this magnitude can provide that hope:

I was really worried about 20 years of democracy.  I’m not so worried any more.  I’d always thought that nationhood and non-racialism were evaporating dreams, and in fact I see they can still be made tangible and real. Ferial Haffajee, editor of City Press newspaper in Johannesburg (Guest 155)

For week 4 of the class, our assignments examined elements from the game in South America, including the rise of the Brazilian National Team after failing in 1950; the fusion of politics and football in Argentina via the Barras Bravas; and wonderful stories of the Uruguyan teams in the 30′s and 50′s.

Week 4 Readings:

• Tony Mason, “The Reign of Pelé,” in Passion of the People (1995), 77-95 
• Vic Duke and Liz Crolley, “Fútbol, Politicians and the People: Populism and Politics in Argentina,” International Journal of the History of Sport 18: 3 (2001): 93-116
• Eduardo Galeano, Soccer in Sun and Shadow, pp. 44-57, 85-90 

Hers is my full post for the class blog:

On the topic of South American futbol, there were three very different readings assigned this week.

Tony Mason’s chapter on Pele was unorganized but insightful.  From the outset, Maradona is mentioned with a snippet included from Le Monde (77).  Why? The title of section is The Reign of Pele.  Then in the author’s account of the 1954 World Cup he starts with the semi-final instead of the quarter final (82-83).  After taking readers all the way through the 1958 World Cup, Mason then retraces Pele’s origins (86-88), including his rise to Santos and his many achievements at the club.  The author ends the chapter with a cursory comparison with Maradona (94-95), which surely deserved its own chapter and much more depth.  Despite all that, Mason provides interesting tidbits that usually escape the World Cup summaries I have read to this point.  For instance, at home for the 1950 World Cup, there was a chance that Brazil would not even make it out of its opening group (78), potentially more devastating than losing the Final, but a victory over Yugoslavia put the hosts through.  Mason goes into great detail about the brutal calendar that Pele and Santos had to maintain during their peak, playing over 1200 games in 14 years (87-89), numbers that seem incomprehensible today.  Finally, there were anecdotes about Pele’s reception worldwide as his fame grew (92-93), serving as templates for today’s celebrity creating society covered by 24/7 cable news networks.

In contrast Duke and Crolley covered a lot of ground in a highly organized chapter on the development of futbol in Argentina.  The authors expanded on two main topics—the relationship between futbol and politics and the maturity of sport in the country.  In our week two readings, we learned that clubs in England were formed typically around workplaces, churches or pubs, and there was a sense of local pride. Similarly in Argentina, as the immigrants and natives took over the game from the English who brought it to the region, clubs in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries centered around the barrios or neighborhoods and “played an important role in the social and political life of the barrio where they were based” (97).  Fan culture eventually rose around these clubs, and I was struck by the nature and power of the Barras Bravas.  For years I have heard Tim Vickery talk about these groups on the World Football Phone In, but reading these pages (107-114), I was stunned to discover the depth of their influence.  Whereas last week we read about acts of violence by English hooligans before, during and after matches, violence that seemed to rise from economic and class conditions, the Barras Bravas not only did this but went further, acting as political agents for presidents or officials (108), committing covert activities for the club (109), and impacting player performance of the club that the fans are supporter (111).

Finally, Galeano’s book is simply one of the best soccer books I have ever read.  The pages were not an assignment but rather a treat, as the Uruguayan’s prose entertained, informs and inspires.  Reading the passages it was impossible to take notes because I was drawn into the fantasy and wonder of the moments he describes such as the ringlets, summaries of the 1930 and 1950 World Cups, and the player Obdulio.  There is something almost mystical about his prose—religious, supernatural, unattainable—which puts it into stark contrast today of modern writing, full of stats and greatest ever moments and constant analysis.

Each week we are to response to another student’s post.   A Manchester City fan posted on stigma of teams that have recently come into wealth.  But as the author correctly argues, money must be spent in order to achieve success.  Here was my response to his post:

As a Manchester United fan of 20 years, financial injection has been the constant threat to the dominance of the Red Devils.  Jack Walker’s money at Blackburn saw the Rovers emerge and win the Premier League in 1995.  Newcastle spent big and built a team that was amazing to watch but just short in terms of success.  Arsenal became a threat, not necessarily because of money, although they spent well on some great players, but because of Wenger’s philosophy of tactics, psychology and fitness.  Now is the team of the petro dollar teams.  I would argue that there has been a stigma on all of these teams, but that’s because fans of opposing teams are jealous, threatened and uncertain about the future.

Reading Soccernomics, clubs have to spend, it really is that simple.  Even the teams with a solid youth policy—United of the mid-90s and the current FC Barcelona side come to mind—had to supplement with star power and also had to increase wage spending to find success.  This current group of petro dollar owners—Chelsea and Manchester City in England and PSG and Anzhi abroad—has varying philosophies of trying to improve with differing levels of success.  Most try to buy entire new teams, but that doesn’t always work.  Team chemistry still matters, as City found out in the 12/13 season.  PSG is in the early stages and must learn the winning mentality that will allow them to dominate at home and compete abroad.  Money cannot buy that.  The owners at Malaga have tried a two pronged approach—bring in veterans to raise the quality while improving their infrastructure in terms of youth development and facility.  Unfortunately the backers are not willing to see the project through and now the entire process hangs by a thread.

Let me be clear: the Red Devils pay a lot in transfer fees and wages.  United spent in the 90’s to strengthen a team that finally won the League after 26 years and then continued to spend to maintain dominance domestically and attempt to become a European power. Even with the current owners and the threat of reduced spending, players continue to come in to Old Trafford and wages continue to rise.  But with the new money teams, the rules of engagement have changed.  These teams may not have the revenue streams of United but they have very deep pockets and can out spend, in some cases over spend for players.  This puts pressure on the United transfer policy.   No more mistakes (Bebe, Kleberson, etc).

I have heard the argument that this new money is good for the game.  I suppose it is in theory, in effect the money should trickle down as these power spenders buy up and coming players from smaller teams, which allows the smaller clubs to stay afloat or in some cases push on.  I’m not convinced of that.  The gap between the haves and have nots continues to grow and eventually the feeder system for this bigger clubs may in fact dry up.

The next couple of years should be interesting as United enter a new era in terms of management and questions will be asked about whether they can stay on top.